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<title>Writer's Month 2020 Prompt 7: Hurt/Comfort by RiatheMai</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26444761">Writer's Month 2020 Prompt 7: Hurt/Comfort</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiatheMai/pseuds/RiatheMai'>RiatheMai</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Writer's Month 2020 Prompts [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Big Brother Dean, Daily Writing Prompt, Gen, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Sad Sam Winchester, Teenchesters, Writer's Month 2020, Writing Prompt, unbetaed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:40:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>887</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26444761</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiatheMai/pseuds/RiatheMai</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Writer's Month 2020 (August):</p><p>Dean is fluent in Sam-speak, so he knows when his little brother is hurting. He also knows how best to get Sam to tell him what's wrong.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Writer's Month 2020 Prompts [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1922179</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Sam Winchester WHUMP, Writer's Month 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Writer's Month 2020 Prompt 7: Hurt/Comfort</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p> </p><p>“Out with it.”</p><p>“What?” Which was Sam-speak for ‘<em>Something is bothering me, but I don’t want to talk about it.’</em></p><p>“You’ve been mopin’ around since I picked you up from school.”</p><p>“Have not.” Which was Sam-speak for ‘<em>I have, but I didn’t want you to notice.’</em></p><p>“Have too. Must just be that time of the month, then, eh Sammy?”</p><p>“Shut up.” Which was Sam-speak for ‘<em>Why do you always have to be such a jerk?’</em></p><p>Dean didn’t have a good answer to that question, but since it usually proved an effective tool, he didn’t see much of a reason to pull it out of his Sammy toolbox.</p><p>Case in point: when Dean plopped himself down onto the edge of Sam’s bed, Sam shifted to make room for him.</p><p>“You wouldn’t understand,” Sam said in a quiet voice, a little whiny as only a thirteen-year-old could be.</p><p>“Try me.”</p><p>Sam was silent for a long time, but Dean stayed as he was, facing away from Sam because it usually helped not to look at Sam when you were trying to get him to tell you what was going on in that freakishly big brain of his.</p><p>
  <em>If only Dad would realize this and stop making every conversation feel like an interrogation.</em>
</p><p>Waiting Sam out was a tricky game; Dean knew he wasn’t the most patient person, but Sam’s stubbornness could try the patience of a saint, and it had only gotten worse as he’d gotten older. Push too soon, and Sam set his heels. Walk too soon, and Sam stewed until he made himself sick or until Dad snapped.</p><p>He counted to ten, then did it again. He started a third time, when Sam reached for one of his schoolbooks and pulled it into his lap.</p><p>“It’s stupid.” Which was Sam-speak for <em>‘Please don’t make fun of me.”</em></p><p>Dean said nothing.</p><p>Sam sighed loudly behind him then handed Dean a piece of tri-folded paper that had been tucked into his book. Dean took it and slowly unfolded it.</p><p>’<em>Dear Parent or Guardian’,</em> Dean read silently. <em>‘Your student, Sam Winchester, has been recognized as Student of the Month for his outstanding academic achievement and exemplary behavior. We would like to invite you and your student to a special breakfast to celebrate this achievement, this Friday---’</em></p><p>
  <em>Oh…</em>
</p><p>And Dean’s heart sunk. They would be long gone by Friday, on to the next town in the next state for the next hunt.</p><p>“Told you it was stupid,” Sam said unhappily.</p><p>Dean forced a big smile on his face. “Dude! Student of the Month!” He spun around on the bed and gave Sam a playful shove. “That’s awesome!”</p><p>But, Sam wouldn’t be appeased. “What’s so awesome about it?” He snatched the paper out of Dean’s hand and folded it back along the original fold lines, and then two more times. “We’ve only been here two weeks. We’ve had one test.”</p><p>Dean remembered that test. “That you slapped stupid!”</p><p>“It wasn’t like it was all that hard.”</p><p>Apparently, the rest of the class hadn’t thought so; Sam had come home from school that day all upset that the other kids were mad at him because his ninety-eight percent had skewed the curve.</p><p>“Not that hard for the student of the month!” Dean cheered, but Sam just rolled his eyes. “Seriously, Sammy. That’s really cool. I’m really proud of you.”</p><p>He didn’t have to force those words. He was really proud of him. He knew his little brother was smart—like, really smart—and he couldn’t help wanting to gloat about it to anyone and everyone they met. Dean didn’t really understand it himself, but he knew how important school was to Sam, how much his little brother struggled with always being the new kid in class, with never getting to stay anywhere long enough to make friends or play a sport or join a club.</p><p>To Dean, school was just that thing he had to do until he was old enough to legally quit. He was counting down the days until he could start hunting with Dad full time. And maybe he was counting down the days until Sammy could join them too, until they were a whole family of hunters, but there was a part of him that wanted Sammy to just get to be a thirteen-year-old and go to the special breakfast after being recognized as Student of the Month.</p><p>“We should celebrate,” Dean declared. “Wha’d’ya say? Just you an’ me. We can get burgers or pizza; whatever you want.”</p><p>Dean held his breath as Sam tucked the letter back into his schoolbook. He knew it probably wasn’t the same in Sam’s eyes, but it was the best he could offer.</p><p>“Pizza?” Sam asked finally.</p><p>Dean took him for pizza and even splurged for ice cream from the Dairy Queen across the street from their motel. As they ate their soft-serve cones—chocolate, chocolate dipped for Dean and vanilla for Sam—at the picnic table behind their unit, Dean couldn’t help but ask, hoping even as he did that he wouldn’t undo all his hard work at cheering Sam up, “Not quite a special breakfast at school, huh?”</p><p>Sam wiped ice cream from his chin with the back of his hand. “No.” He looked up at Dean and smiled. “It’s better.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p>
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